Roommates
by XXforget-x-me-x-notXX
Summary: Cartman, Kyle, Stan, and Kenny are all going to be roommates. This can't be pretty.
1. Chapter 1

**Random and slightly pointless introduction: **Here's another. I'm not sure if I'll continue this one. I don't have a lot of inspiration, but I think I'll try to. Anyway, I think this is the oldest I've ever made them. So bear with me, I don't know if I can make them seem mature enough. But they are you know THEM so I don't have to make them mature.

Let me know if you want me to keep going.

**Warning: **Mild swearing.

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It was six days before their high school graduation, and a week before the last day of school. Stan was going to the Platt College, Kyle was going to Heritage College, Cartman was going to Kaplan College, and I was going to the Art Institute of Colorado. All of these colleges were in Denver, luckily for us.

We were all leaning against a brick wall in the so-called yard that was basically a parking lot. I lit a cigarette and sighed. "I still don't know where I'm gonna live."

Kyle nodded. "I don't particularly want a dorm. I don't like living with strangers."

"Yeah," Cartman agreed. "And I'll be damned if I join fraternity."

"I tried to save up for an apartment, but I still just don't have the money," Stan added, looking kind of scared.

Kyle let out a long sigh. "It feels like five minutes ago we were having our crazy elementary adventures, and now... We're going to four different colleges."

I rubbed my temples. "Ugh, I really didn't plan in advance for going to college. I'm almost broke, and I have nowhere to live."

Stan's eyes lit up suddenly, and he moved in front of us. "I have an idea!"

Cartman and I groaned in unison. Kyle just raised his eyebrow. "If it involves unicycles, instruments, anything that flies, Cartman's mom, _my _mom, anyone else's mom, for that matter, a pogo stick, Mr. Garrison, that creepy scientist guy with the little monkey thing that follows him around, or Kenny dying, I'm out," Kyle listed.

Stan blinked and stared at Kyle for a few moments. "Wow, that was thorough. But no, it doesn't involve anything like that. We're all going to college in Denver, right?"

Cartman rolled his eyes. "That much should be obvious, pussy."

Stan ignored him. "If we all help out, we can buy an apartment, that the four of us can share!"

I sighed. "Oh, Stan. You're the only one that's gay. We all like _girls._ I'll have to pass."

He glared at me. "Not like that, Ken. Kyle, you said you didn't want a roommate you didn't know, right?"

"Right..." Kyle said slowly.

"So how about three that you _do _know?" Stan looked so excited and pleased with himself.

I shrugged. "Why not? It'll help a lot, for sure."

"It's not like I have anywhere else to live," Kyle sighed. "I guess I'm in."

Stan looked at Eric hopefully. "What about you?"

Cartman sighed. "I don't really have a choice."

"Great!" Stan chirped, clearly annoyingly overjoyed. "Then it's settled! We'll all get summer jobs, and look into apartments for sale!"

I groaned. "What am I getting myself into?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Random and slightly pointless introduction: **I'm going to switch the POVs around a lot in this story. Why? I don't know. Don't ask. I don't really have anything awesome to say here. Let's see how many people read this... If you read it, put the word "blueberry" somewhere in your review, if you review the story.

**Warning: **Some swearing.

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Kyle's going to study to become a doctor the second he starts his college. That's why he went to Heritage. It has great classes for that kind of thing. He's so smart, and he's going to do something great, I know it. He'll be an amazing doctor for sure.

And Cartman, he's going into politics. I can see him becoming a senator or something. Maybe even president someday. God knows he'd be the perfect guy for that kind of thing. He's definitely a leader. Not an incredibly _good _leader, but he can make just about anyone follow him.

And Kenny, he's just talented. He draws, he paints, he sings, he plays guitar... Not only that. He's a photographer, too. He's amazingly artistic. I actually believe that he could become famous, in any of those categories.

They all have their lives planned ahead of them. They set up where they're headed, and they know what they want.

But me? I have no fucking idea what I want to do. Sure, I can think of a few careers that I wouldn't _mind _having. But I don't know what I _want. _It's so confusing. I almost wish one of them was as clueless as me. _Almost. _But I don't really wish that, because I don't want any of my friends to be as stressed and helpless as me. It's not a pleasant feeling, I should know.

Oh, and this summer is gonna be _hell. _I have to work really, really hard if I want to be able to buy a fourth of an apartment. Plus, Kenny's particularly short on money this year, so it'll be more than a fourth. Oh great.

In the money I have saved for college, I have less than Kyle and Cartman. Hell, I'm not that much better off than Kenny. He and I are going to be working are fucking asses off all summer. Some amazing _break. _Ugh. Isn't this going to be so much _fun_?

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Only partially awake, I lay in bed. In my head, I was conscious, I just couldn't move or open my eyes. That doesn't make very much sense, does it? I don't care. It doesn't have to. I'm tired. Get over it. I tried one last attempt at opening my eyes, and I thought I did. Then I realized I had only _imagined _opening my eyes, because there were waffles in front of me. Damn, those imaginary waffles looked good...

"Stan! Wake up! Dammit, Stan..." I couldn't tell who's voice that was. I'm guessing it's Shelly.

"I'm... awake..." I groaned, my voice hardly audible to even me. "Fuck off, Shelly..."

"You _have _to get up, Stan! Now!" the voice said, more forcefully this time.

"Get the hell away from me, Shelly..." I muttered, still half dreaming about those really, really awesome-looking waffles. I forced my eyes open. They were sticky with sleep, so I blinked a few times before getting them into focus. I frowned in confusion. "You... aren't Shelly..."

"Wow, good job, Stan!" Kyle clapped in sarcasm for me.

"Stop with the clapping..." I mumbled, closing my eyes again. "I feel like I have a hangover... But I don't remember drinking any alcohol last night..."

"That's because you didn't, stupid," Kyle said, flicking my forehead. "Wake up. You, me, Kenny, and Cartman have things to do today."

"That's what she said..." I murmured.

"What- Dude, that hardly makes sense."

I finally managed to keep my eyes open and glanced at the clock. It was ten in the morning. "Dude. It's so early."

"I know, now let's _go._"

I stared at him and frowned. "Wait, how did you get in my house?"

He blinked and his eyes glazed over for a moment. "Not important. We have to go get Kenny and Cartman."

I turned to the other side. "Get them first, I'm tired."

"Yeah, well, imagine how hard it's gonna be to get _them _up," he snorted.

"Okay, fine, I'm up. Happy?" I said, leaning up. My head spun a little, but I got out of bed.

"Very, now let's go get Cartman."

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We all sat in Kyle's room. Kenny was on the floor, leaning against the wall. Kyle and I were sitting on his bed, and Eric was in Kyle's desk chair. "Ugh, why couldn't we go to Stan's house? Or mine?" Cartman groaned.

Kenny raised an eyebrow. "What do you have against Kyle's house? Or my house?"

"Well, yours is rat-infested and probably has diseases..." Cartman said, with a slight grin.

The blond glared. "Oh, mine has diseases? Everything in your house probably has STD's, because your mom's a complete whore."

"Ey! You can't talk, you're a bigger whore than my mom," Eric growled. By now, the insults we would always throw at each other didn't actually bug us, we just acted like they did. We were _way _to used to being called dumb Jews or nerds (for Kyle), pussies or fags (for me), poor man-whores (Kenny), and fatasses, or some other synonym of fat (Cartman).

"So why not my house?" Kyle said while trying to balance a pencil on his little finger.

"Because you mom is a fucking bitch, and I hate you," Cartman replied.

Kyle just rolled his eyes and threw the pencil at him.

"Ey!"

"Guys, guys, we woke up this early, shouldn't we at least talk about what we're supposed to be doing?" I sighed.

Kyle shrugged. "I'm thinking I'll just babysit. It's an easy job, and parents love me. I don't really know why..."

"You get good grades, dude. They think you'll rub off on their brats or something," Kenny said. "Lucky you. I'd totally babysit all summer, but no one wants some ghetto, white-trash, redneck, smoking, drug-addicted teenager to babysit kids."

Cartman nodded. "Stan was probably about to say how you're not a bunch of those things. But you're right, Ken, no one would want you near kids. The same goes for me."

I glared at Cartman. "Well, Kenny _isn't _a ghetto, white-trash, redneck, drug-addict."

"But he _is _a teenager that smokes. That alone is enough for no one to want kids near him," Kyle pointed out.

"Can we not talk about me like I'm not here?" Kenny rolled him eyes.

"So what were you thinking of as a job, Ken?" I asked.

"I don't know. I think I might have to work two jobs," he said thoughtfully.

I groaned. "Me, too, dude."

Cartman grinned smugly. "I only have to get one part-time job to get enough money."

I grabbed a pillow and threw it at him. "Shut up, dude."


End file.
